League of Legends

Teemo’s Biscuit Fiasco

LeagueofLegends1 - Teemo's Biscuit Fiasco

Once upon a time, Teemo went support in order to help his marksman Vayne win lane. He felt he had the capacity to win, based on a variety of factors. His stealth could play a role, and his blinding dart could make trades very frustrating for the opposing lane. The only issue Teemo foresaw was mana, and to help assuage this, he decided to sign up for Biscuit Deliveries. They give permanent mana on consuming–and are tasty to boot!

Teemo sprinted into lane, making small chat with Vayne. It didn't take long for the Yordle to attain the woman's sheer desire for victory. She placed a lot of pride on her two game win streak and would not see it broken!

"Remember," Vayne said, "do whatever needs to be done."

"Order received!" Teemo replied back joyfully. By this time, the jungle camp had spawned and it was time to leash. Then, it was time to lane.

A fiery brand and peppy Tristana were their opponents. Not good at all: Teemo felt there was a lot of pain to come. Nonetheless the CSing started. A minion here, a minion there. The sounds of coinpurses breaking free of their owners soothed Teemo's furred ears in the midst of battle. But perhaps he should not have gotten so distracted, as Brand lobbed a fireball his way, while Tristana hit him with two attacks. Injured and a bit embarrassed to have been caught out of position, Teemo decided now was the time to eat a biscuit.

Except instead of one biscuit, he had fifteen. There were so many, stacked inside of his little cute biscuit pouch…

"Vayne, I think I've scouted out a bug," Teemo said to Vayne as she missed a canon minion.

Vayne wheeled around on the spot, arms crossed. "You made me miss a canon. Ugh, we're simply doomed! Adios, massive win streak!"

"I'm getting a biscuit every three seconds instead of three minutes."

Before, she had appeared haggard, unsure in the face of a very hard lane for two silver II's. Renewed vigor coursed through her upon hearing the news.

"Fantastic," she said, "so you can eat as many as possible to help win trades."

Teemo tried to be reasonable. "That's cheating. I should sell the stack and fill my item slots up so–"

Vayne grabbed his shoulder and hustled him over to their tower, away from harm. He felt his biscuit delivery pouche ransacked as she pulled free two.


If one queues as support, one must… well… be supportive. And Vayne really wanted to win, and perhaps that was more important than the risk of cheating.

Teemo nervously put one biscuit up to his mouth and started to chew it up. It had a sweet flavor, followed by the savory aftertaste of warm baked bread. A happy taste, even considering the circumstances.

Vayne looked back and saw the wave approaching. "We have no time, hurry up."

"Glk!" Teemo exclaimed. She had taken the second biscuit and pushed it into his mouth with her index and middle fingers. She broke it apart by mashing it down against his tongue and teeth, then shoved it down far enough where the Yordle had no choice but to swallow.

"Hey… that's not appropriate."

She was gone, however, back to CSing.

For the next ten minutes, she tortured Teemo by constantly pinging him to move up and bait out the enemy's spells. Every time he would, receiving scorch marks and bruises, yet his marksman never seemed able to muster up her own courage to approach and attack. And every time after, he'd limp back into safety to down another biscuit.

He ate them far slower than his bag supplied them. Down went a third one, a fourth one, a fifth one, a sixth one. At the seventh, Teemo sat down in the grass and laid a hand on his stomach. Maybe it was his imagination, but there was a bit of bloat where his lithe frame used to be. Perhaps these biscuits processed in his body faster than normal. Combined with the high metabolism associated to his kin, and this overeating habit was a receipe for disaster.

Vayne tried to go for a canon minion, but Brand and Tristana cleverly forced her away from it with well-placed spells. She stomped her heel, angry as all get-out at the canon dying out of her reach.

"Where were you?" She asked.

"V-Vayne… I'm really full. I dont think I can eat another biscuit." Even to save his life.

"What? No, of course you can," she said–in a coo that rang of superficial supportiveness. "Here, look."

She started to perform her trick again–pushing a biscuit into his mouth–and for the first time Teemo objected. He did so by reaching out to stop her, but was too late and ended up having to stomach another of the damnably sweet snacks. He swore his stomach become just the tiniest bit bigger.

"Oof…" the conclusion was, unfortunately, that he did have more room.

"Come on, buddy, see? You can do it. You don't want to see us lose. Think of the vitriol from our team. The mockery. The emotes. When I began my win streak two games ago, I vowed to never let myself be fooled with, no matter what. Can't my Yordle friend eat a few freakin biscuits to help achieve my dream? our dream?"

Huffing to himself, Teemo stood back up. She was right–winning lane took priority over his concerns. Nothing else mattered but victory.

So there was a ninth biscuit; a tenth one, an eleventh one, a twelfth one. A thirteenth through nineteenth one. Soon the increasingly sluggish Yordle was shoveling them right in front of the enemy laners.

On the twentieth, Brand even stopped attacking to shoot the Yordle a worried look.

"Hey," he said in all-chat, "are you okay? How are you doing that?"

Teemo raised a paw politely, informing Brand that he was chewing. For whatever reason, the biscuits had become easier to eat the bigger he felt. On this biscuit in particular, his tubby furry stomach drooped a bit down over his waistline.

"It's a bug," he claimed, licking up the crumbs. "Oh…" he rubbed his paws up and down his pudgy cheeks with morbid fascination. "D-Dont worry about me…"

"Are you making him do that?!" Tristana asked Vayne. "I'm going to report you for Yordle abuse."

Vayne laughed unconvincingly. "H-Hey, don't blame me. It was his idea to abuse the bug. Teemo, quit it."

Teemo thought about it. Well, more like… he stared at the next biscuit in his paw, possessed by some kind of empty-headed awe.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm fine."

Tristana and Brand exchanged glances, but went back to laning.

There was a twenty-second through twenty-ninth, with an interruption on the thirtieth.

Teemo was up near the minions baiting attacks again, when he decided to pull out a biscuit to heal.

"Now hold it," Tristana said. "Teemo, buddy. You were at full HP."

The Yordle chomped down on the delicious treat. A wet swallow sounded off in bot lane as he made it disappear. The resultant surge of fat and weight made him shine a lackadaisical smile.

"Did you say something?"

"Enough!" Brand cried. "Vayne, send him back to base, before the poor not-on-fire creature debases himself further. We'll go back to base as well, to make things fair."

"Uh… yeah…" Vayne walked over and knelt before the very pudgy scout. "Say, pal. You've done, er…" she couldn't bring herself to say great, for he had caused her to miss so many canon minions. "You've been here for awhile. Why not take a break and buy?"

Teemo rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I'm okay. Seriously." His recall spell had trouble fitting his larger frame in its magic sigil.

At the base, Teemo felt a bit of shame catching up to him.

"Um, Vayne, I think I might be addicted to these." He held one up to show her, then slowly started pulling it back to his crumb-riddled maw…

She stopped him and wrestled it away. "Look, yeah, I can see that. Nice way to ruin my win streak."


"Sorry. Can you um… can you stay with me for a moment? Just to make sure I follow through on selling all these."

Vayne scanned bottom lane and discovered minions were pushing towards her tower. One of them was a canon one!

She patted his chubby shoulder. "Uh, nah. You got it. Bye!" She dashed off, ignoring his pleas.

Things proceeded normally in bot lane for several minutes. But, again, the concerned opponents asked for a pause.

"What?!" Vayne asked. "Cant I just CS in peace?" This frustration stemmed from the fact that canon minion from earlier had ended up dying to tower.

"Where is he?" Tristana tapped her foot impatiently. "Even as a tub of lard, it doesn't take that long to walk back."

Speak of the devil (Teemo): the scout finally waddled up past the tower. He was lost in his own world… inhaling biscuits two or three at a time. At this point, his frame had become that of a miniature Gragas… sloshing, layered with fuzzy folds and flabby ends. His stomach rumbled and he sat back, sighing happily.

"I ate some on the way here. To, well, improve my maximum mana."

"What in the–uh…" Vayne poorly acted out her surprise. "However did this happen, oh no… I thought he sold all of them…"

Tristana rolled her eyes and shoved past the useless marksman. She leveled her canon at the Yordle.

"Buddy, sorry for the tough love but you have to stop. Put the biscuit deliverer bag down or I'll have Brand burn the calories off of you."

He ate three more biscuits in defiance: number eighty-seven, eighty-eight, and eighty-nine respectively. The way the mulled mass of baked goods slid down his throat in a clearly-visiblr bulge, gave Tristana pause.

"What?" Teemo grunted, rolling back onto his feet. "Why are you all so mean? I'm finally enjoying myself this game. First my own lane partner bullied me, then you obvious smurfs started walloping me. Just let me enjoy my freaking biscuits."

The Bandle Gunner blushed. "W-Well, I'm actually not smurfing but I enjoy the fact you think I–hey! He's teleporting!"

Teemo grinned as the purple light enveloped him. "If you're gonna be a drag, I'll find my own special hideaway so I may eat in peace."

"Stop him, Brand!"

The fiery mage summoned an attack to sun the Yordle, but the teleport fired off instants before it could happen. All three of them groaned. The only evidence Teemo had been there were the myriad chunks of biscuit.

Just then, Zac–their jungler–ran up to them.

"Hey guys," he said, "I was gonna gank but it looks like something happened."

Vaybe threw her crossbow on the ground and poured. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" She shouted. "Teemo valiantly decided on his own, independently, to eat a ton of buggy biscuits to help me win lane. Now he's developed a lust for them, and teleported off to eat himself to death. Where were you when I–i mean Teemo needed you?!"

The amorphous blob gaped. "He was eating biscuits with bugs in them?"

"9x this idiot," the marksman cursed.

"We're wasting time," Tristana told them. We need to find out what bush he's hiding in."

The answer to that question, which bush, was simple: Teemo had picked out the tiny patch in the top lane river. Finally alone, the fat creature plopped himself down and unhooked his biscuit pouch. It was crammed full of an infinite amount of his new favorite vice. His pudgy chops became slicked in saliva, Yordle drool coming by the wave in lieu of their magical smell. What flavor they hel! The feeling of their mystical power flowing into his thighs and stomach and glutes and feet and fingers and cheeks felt phenomenal! At some point before, he had cared about the game. But it would take a fool to not change priorities, to not fall in love with the endless swallows of biscuit.

Unable to resist any longer, Teemo tore into the pouch with both paws and started mashing six to eight biscuits at a time. Some slid uselessly across his cheek and fell away, but it didnt matter. The scout's code always dictated one should chew with their mouth closed, but Teemo forgot that little detail and began huffing and panting threw his constant gnahes. Chewed food streamed and dribbled down his chest. Two-hundred. Two-hundred and nine. Two-hundred and thirty. His stomach let out an uproarious growl that could be heard up and down the Rift–if it wasnt for his stealth ability concealed the noise. Indeed, the nine other players ran up and down the map, crying out his name and arguing with one another.

Three-hundred and fifty-eight. Teemo breathed heavily, almost letting out a slight gag at the sheer amount of food crammed in his maw-hole. This time, his colossal thick digits had managed to grab twenty whole snacks. Still he managed to swallow, and the resounding increase to his weight finally caused his shoes to explode into shreds of fabric. His bare feet enjoyed the cool Rift breeze, his toes writhed in joy, enjoying the freedom and feeling of heaviness.

But there was an unintended consequence. So surprised by the loss of his shoes, Teemo fell back. His fingers had become too thick to grab any more biscuits, and his stomach too large to roll back up.

Not even giving a moment to reflection, the scout simply threw the biscuit pouch's open end over his maw and started inhaling them.

"Glk… gack… mmmm…."


His stomach ROARED, easily becoming greater in size than a fully-built and fully-stacked cho'gath.

Four hundred. Five hundred. Six hundred… his throat eased into the process of sucking up biscuits. Smooth, steady gumps. Teemo closed his eyes and just lost himself to the bliss.

The others continued to search for him. Vayne liked doing so least of all.

"Stupid Yordle," she muttered. "Stupid furred idiot got me in trouble, AND lost the game. When I find him, I'm going tonperforate him with bolts and watch him pop. Yeah, I can't wait to see his face when I ready my cross–"


Vayne stumbled back and went still. She had just collided with something very large… and very comfy. The bottom of Teemo's massive foot. Disgusted, she tried to run around to get a better idea of where he was.

In all honesty, it was sheer luck she happened to walk by just when the Yordle was starting to overtake the width of the river. But sheer luck this was not. As the sudden break from his reverie caused him to jolt. And jolting caused him to wobble. And wobbling caused him to exit stealth and capsize

The marksman had foolishly walked over to the scout's side, and eventual destination. She stared in horror as he exited stealth, his mountainous belly rippling in motion, coming towards her. Right at her.

"Teemo, no! Wait, I'm sorry, I truly am, please stop yourself!"

"I can't," Teemo choked out, the bag of biscuits falling away from his muzzle. His roll continued in slow motion, as everyone looked over to witness Vayne's tragic downfall. She desperately fumbled to find her flash key…


A tidal wave erupted from where Teemo had landed in the river. Several cries could be heard as everyone was washed away.



Silence overtook the Rift. Teemo panted for air, finally free from his biscuit lust.

No one dared comment on what had happened. Instead, Teemo's team began a surrender vote. One, two, three, four.

The game ended. Minions by the dozens came to roll Teemo off of Vayne… since she had lost the game, you could say she was pretty crushed

Moral of the story: don't pressure the teammates you rely on!!

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